


PLAY A VOLTA!

by GoodQueen



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: #StarkBrothersInArms, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodQueen/pseuds/GoodQueen
Summary: What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet/W.Shakespeare “Romeo and Juliette”/Summary: Based rather on TV series.Cersei and Jamie Lannister, Golden Twins have a relationship, but rather toxic since Tommen and Mycella were born. Let’s pretend, that these two kids are twins and twins “happens” often in Lannister family. Joffrey just doesn't exist, yay! Jon Arryn lives and I rather do not have a plan to "kill" him.What was suppose to be a revenge on Cersei becomes dangerous game with a naturalized bastard, Ramsey Bolton. Jaime is going to have a real, deep-sh...t troubles, but will find an unexpected help.Generally, winter and war is coming, love and danger is in the air!Please excuse me, if I won’t be so intelligent and funny as our one and only Littlest Lord, whom I made one of narrators.I do not own anything, fanfic is written for fun, blablabla.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first story and first pics - links to the pictures below:
> 
> https://spark.adobe.com/post/iiBD9pv06WDDy/  
https://spark.adobe.com/post/ywRpjwwJGkwyS/

Tyrions POV  
Imagine, dear reader ... No! Dear reader, have you ever visited Kings Landing, with all its beauty and stench, with splendor and temptation?  
The city has become a second home for my brother and me, but I have to admit - that rainy evening we wanted to be away from everything that we associate with the home, and close to everything that is devouring. For once - it is not known which - convulsed by our father (Jamie for joining the White Guard, and I for the very fact of existence); we went to brothel.

Jamie did not visit the courtesans. First of all, as a knight of the White Guard, he was not supposed to do it officially, secondly, there were some rumors about him and our sister Cersei. Now, years later, I can write about it safer, but let me, dear listener, leave you with this intelligent understatement. Jamie certainly could drink - whatever the vows White Guard and brothers from the Black Watch have made, both did not vow abstinence from liquors - and fortunately no one came up with that idea to this day! However, what Jamie could do officially, and how it affected his stomach, were completely different things. When Jamie, without knocking, opened the door to the room in which I was and, slightly tipsy, he called he’s coming back to the castle, I only sighed with relief, responded, that I understood and advised him to take care of himself. About half an hour later, or the fourth part of the time contracted with my companion, a tumult arose at the bottom of the shrine of bliss. At first we did not pay attention to it. After another half I heard something.

\- Tyrion! Tyrioonnn! TYRION! -TY ...! Oh, here you are!  
\- I am, but will you, brother, ever learn to use the DOOR IN BROTHEL! - I said a bit annoyed this time. My companion did not bother to cover herself, but she sat down in a more modest pose.  
\- Tyrion, we're leaving! We're going tto... HEP! - Jamie Lannister, the best of the White Guard swordsmen, hiccuped. I was seriously worried, because I could not remember seeing him that drunk ever, neither before nor after. My golden-haired brother staggered for a moment, finally took up the thread.  
\- What was I talkin' about? ... Oh, YES! - he smiled like a madman - We're going to pay respects to Lord and Lady Stark!  
\- And what's the occasion, brother? - I asked amused, not taking it seriously.  
\- Well ... you, my beloved brother, have to come up with an occasional excuse, but I'm going to ... hep! ... court Sansa Stark! B-but this is ... hep! Of course, the secret! - after which Jamie slammed the door and started down the stairs, loudly demanding wine.

If my father, Tywin Lannister, stood in front of me and confessed that he regrets all the offenses and loves me with a true fatherly love, I would not be more surprised. Actually, I would be angry, but that's not the point. If Jamie provokes a drunken scandal, and somehow it will reach Lord Stark's ears and North at all, I would not like to be in Jamie's skin, or even my own. A vision of the bloodthirsty Stark troops knocking on the doors of Red Keep or Casterly Rock spoiled the rest of my mood. I sighed heavily.

\- My dear, sweet Sue, I think I have to take care of my brother.  
\- I could send someone ... - the girl purred, she did not want to lose a wealthy and polite client.  
\- I am afraid, my sweet, that in this state he would be able to say such foolishness that the whole private father's chest will not be enough to close the mouths of the girls, servants and janitors, and the fault will fall partly on me. Meanwhile ... - I reached for the coat - ... take this and tell no one. Understand? - I added seriously. - If you put a word to anyone and any of that drunken gibberish turns out to be serious decision, I though, save us, gently Mother!  
The young whore had judged the chances, if Littlefinger questions her and had summoned her life experience to imagine what Lord Lannister would do to her if a rumor arose - even so insignificant that drunken Jamie had announced that he wanted to marry, and to marry this particular maiden. She grabbed the cover.  
\- If so, we'd better hurry up. I will pretend to be dissatisfied, and you will just pay for the time you spend with me ... I hope you understand ... - she lowered her eyes slightly and hided a pouch.  
\- Sweet, it did not even occur to me to take back that tiny amount, and I'm going to settle everything that's needed with Littlefinger. Let's do as you say.

We came downstairs. At the bottom of my mind I thanked the Stranger. Jamie was vomiting like a cat, unable to extract any articulated sound, and the janitors were looking at him rather helplessly. .

\- So what are you looking at, bring the second bucket! And call someone to clean up.  
Petyr Baelish, called Littlefinger, came to the hall. A glance was enough to assess the situation.  
\- Do what Lord Lannister tells you! Get moving. - Littlefinger was calm, he did not allow himself a plebeian outburst of anger. - Ser Tyrion, forgive my people, they do not get used to taking care of an unwell nobleman of this rank.  
I laughed.  
\- At least they called you. It happens that my brother is ... indisposed, I cannot remember him in this state, so thank you for being tactful. I wonder what led him to this state.  
\- I do not know either, he burst in ... I mean, ser Jamie's came into my quarters when I hosted ser Tyrion and mumbled things without connection, the whole mood was gone, and everything would be on me. Excuse me, ser Petyr, but the fault is always on the side of the girl ...  
\- Do not worry, my sweet, for such matters, I'll arrange everything with ... - I started to talk.  
\- Tsss ... Tyrion ... - whatever Jamie wanted to say, drowned in the last torsion.  
\- He will live! - I said with irony - Ser Petyr, would you be so kind and make somebody to bring a bill and ... make someone call a litter.  
\- No! - Jamie covered his mouth with his hand. - Just not a horse or a litter! I can handle it!

Of course, he could not do it, so the invaluable Littlefinger conjured a henchman, a big like an ox and just as stupid as a big one. He alternately held up and carried Jamie. Before this man came, it was clear that the very agitated Jamie had come to the brothel in a gallop and demanded two flasks of strong booze. He drank it quickly, and when the servant maid expressed concern for his health, he blamed her so insultingly and aggressively that, even considering the shrine we were in, the girl felt offended. I rewarded her tears with a good word and a silver dragon, honest, not cut off. Lannisters always pay their debts. Always. Our father can be a tyran for his family, but I hardly remember a situation, when he insulted a servant or didn’t pay somebody, even when he release servants from service. This is one of a very few advantages of Old Lions character. Two hours and four puke stops later we stood at the gates of the Keep - although maybe "stood" was too strong word in the case of Jamie, who hung on our accidental helper. A gave this boy a coin, wave off his bows and thanks and waited till he disappeared in the darkness.

\- Jamie, is that a good idea to show yourself ...  
\- I asked for release from service today.

He did WHAT?! Dear reader, can you imagine, my dismay? My brother, after all these fights and quarrels with father, left the Kingsguard?!

\- What have you done? Are you really THAT drunk?  
\- I asked to be released from service. Take me to the room.

*

It was dawn when ice water was poured into a bath and a special flask was brought from my room and the cook was awakened to brew a light broth, and the servants went to their usual occupations. Jamie spoke first, leaning at my secret hangover cordial with distaste. He spoke like a man who no longer cares for own fate.  
\- Tyrion, do not pretend you do not know about Cersei and me. Everybody knows, or in any case, everyone in Kings Landing suspects, except for my father and Arryn, though Lord Hand starts to look strange at children and avoids me. And besides ... Anyway, today I found her in bed with another man.

I was silent for a long moment and evened my breath. Our sister. Not only a malicious schemer, but to the detriment of ill beauty and stupid. And the worst is that she is beautiful. There was no point in denying it. I did not want to ask who it was. I will find out sooner or later. Besides, necessity to answer, to articulate the name, would hurt Jamie. One question, however, I had to ask.

\- Has His Majesty consented?  
Jamie winced.  
\- Very willingly. Father will be delighted. For once.  
\- Jamie, you're still drunk.  
\- I was not when I was talking to the king. And believe me, I got sick quickly, when ... - he almost sobbed - I wanted to kill him. And then I realized that I should kill her ... then I thought about the children and ... Somehow in an angry amok I found our noble and understanding monarch and I said that I could no longer remain in the royal guard. He wants so much to please our father that he did not even ask why. He just told me to leave somewhere for some time and think it over well, but whatever I decide, I have his consent.  
\- Maybe it's some misunderstanding?  
\- And you, of all the people, still defend her?! You're a good brother, but thank you. I have been drinking like an animal, and it did not help. I have to go to sleep. Be so kind and send to your father a word that I want to see him around noon. Will you come with me, huh? - he suddenly asked in the tone of a little boy who was once afraid of being spanked.  
\- If I refuse, will it get you away from the idea ...  
\- No. - Jamie pulled through his teeth.  
\- And you promise me that although you will consider other candidates?  
\- I will consider. Reluctantly. Father will not agree to anybody, and I want my wife living as far away of Kings Landing as possible.

Then I realized that my wonderful, golden-haired brother finally begins to think. Well, I'd prefere him to take a whore rather than a wife, especially a naive Northern maid. I felt chills at the thought of the fate that poor, young Sansa Stark might face, not because of Jamie, but Cersei. \- I will help you in everything, as always. - and I make sure you wont take a wife only to make Cersei angry. \- Thank you brother. Before I left, he felt asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Lion is angry, but satisfied and prepared for litterally anything...

Jamie’s POV  
When I woke up, for one wonderful moment I did not know where I was and I almost could not remember what had happened. After a while, I regretted that I haven’t get drunk to death. Cersei betrayed me. Yes, I know, I've endured Robert for years, his crude behavior, how he treated Cersei and the fact that my children carried his name, but that, it was somehow different. Cersei WANTED to become a queen, and because we could not officially be together anyway, I gladly allowed such a development of events. Since the death of our mother, the only thing that really have mattered to me was what Cersei wanted. There was one exception - the day I became a Kingslayer.  
I sighed. I was waiting for a conversation with this honorable fool, Eddar Stark, and his wife, who sometimes made the impression that she, as we sometimes say, was wearing the pants in this marriage. I did not know who turns out worse, he, she, or entire rows of Northerners angry by the fact that the Southener even thought of marrying their bride. Nobody, however, could match my own father. Busy with thoughts, I stumbled into my father's room without knocking. Fortunately, Tyrion was already there, he was sipping wine quite calmly. My father pointed out my place without a word. I sat on the edge of the chair. He was looking through some documents. I realized with irritation that Cersei always pretended to do something similar to show the interlocutor her superiority - as if she could not find a better time to sign bills for the court. I loved her so much, and now I was looking for excuses to hate her even more. It will be best if I leave. Also, it will be best if this stupid youngster moves in the opposite direction.  
\- Tyrion told me that you finally started thinking. - Father said without preliminaries. - Can you share with me than ... the fruits of this process?  
Thanks a lot, brother, I thought, giving him a look, but he just shrugged. In fact, he had little time to prepare our father, and they both honestly hated each other.  
\- I decided to dump the white and get married.  
Father raised his eyebrows and put down the papers. Before he could comment on my confession, I said:  
\- Father ... I want to marry Sansa Stark.  
My father looked at me carefully. He did not get angry, but he did not even smile.  
\- Why her?  
Because I want to be as far away from Cersei as possible, I am condemning myself to a voluntary exile and I want my wife to be at least loyal to me?...  
\- And why not? - I replied offhandedly and suddenly realized how immature this answer was. - I ... Northerners are honorable. I want a wife from the North, and she is ... the best of highborn.  
\- And very pretty.  
\- Beautiful. Too young for me, but ... I can wait a year or two.  
\- Just a year, Jamie. - he replied almost gently. - Your duties as my successor have been waiting long enough.  
\- So, do you agree?  
\- I did not say that. I'd rather ... Margeary Tyrell, for example. Highgarden ...  
\- Oh no! I do not want a wife who would be superior to me with intelligence.  
Tyrion laughed openly, and a barely composed grimace of surprise ran through father's face.  
\- You have really thought it through, haven’t you?  
\- Yes.  
\- Cersei hates her. – pointed Tyrion.  
\- Cersei hates every younger well-born woman in her environment. - I growled.  
\- Have you quarreled? - Father asked.  
\- Usually, you do not care about our relations.  
\- Listen to me, son. If your decision is a childish prank caused by ... – now, this is Tywin Lannister, whom we know and love!  
\- Father, the longer I think about it, the more I like my own idea. And if you ask for the first time in your life, yes, we have argued about raising children. However, it does not affect my decision.  
Tyrion choked with wine, and father looked at him suspiciously.  
\- You just argued about it NOW, Jamie? - He asked consciously, though as usual witty and maliciously my little brother.  
\- And if Eddar Stark refuses you?  
\- He will not refuse you and his friend.  
\- What?! - my father get angry.  
\- If you and Tyrion support me, you both surely will be able to convince His Heightness, that the daughter of his best friend on the court and in Casterly Rock is a great idea.  
\- If he agrees, you will take Tommen and Mycella with you for some time.  
\- So you agree? - I was glad.  
\- Let's assume that I agree. How do you want to go about it?  
\- First, I want to confess to Starks - in trust - the truth about the death of the Mad King.  
\- And what is the truth about Aerys' death? - father was surprised.

We talked about my life like a father and son so rarely that it did not bother me to hide from him that it was not the family's interest that told me to sting Aerys.  
When, with pain, taking a breath every moment, I told him everything, he burst out:  
\- BELLIES FULL OF GREEN FIRE ARE STILL STANDING UNDER THE CITY, AND YOU HAVE NOT SAY ANYTHING TO ME?! A pair of fools! Idiots! - The Old Lion we know and love, without a doubt. It does not matter what his sons lived through all these years. He was worried about Kings Landing and his duties.

He mastered himself. He called.  
\- Bring Varys, Littlefinger and ... for now, two of them! Send a message to Arryn that I have to see him. No. Prepare a letter and bring it to me. In the blink of an eye! Secondly? - he asked calmly after the servant left.  
\- Secondly - I continued in the absurdity of the situation. - I was hoping that Tyrion would help me figure out the situation in the North and ... the customs there.

Tyrion only laughed, and my father looked at me with pity, which I was worth at that moment.

\- Tyrion will finally make himself useful for something. You two will stop bumbling and whoreing and you will find out about the situation of all the Seven Kingdoms and Casterly Rock, and of course in the customs of the North, so that you do not make yourself a fool. You have two weeks for it.  
\- Two weeks?! I wanted to leave tomorrow!  
\- Have you imagine that a LANNISTER would court a LADY, even unofficially, with EMPTY HANDS and without a trusted retinue? We must make some preparations. - he stood up. - And for now, not a word to anyone about these ... a pair of idiots! - he went to the door.  
\- Father! Could you ... do not tell Cersei?

How Tyrion have to suffered the grimace that ran over the face of the Old Lion, when the unwanted son addressed him differently than the head of the family?

\- I did not mean that. I do not need female ... intrigues.

He marched out of his own rooms as if with new energy, and Tyrion looked at me and began to giggle in an uncontrollable way.

\- If you could see your face! Well, brother, you're marrying! About time! - he mocked without mercy.  
\- And if they refuse me? - I mumbled. Tyrion spilled out tears of her eyes.  
\- Head up, knight! You have your old Lion and the Littlest Lord on your side! We will save you from the wrath of the Starks, their direwolves, and above all - from the fury of Catelyn Stark! And Sansa will love you as soon as you discover your intentions from her! He breathed and wiped his eyes. - After all, you are a golden-haired knight and you will regain honor in the eyes of her family. Everything will be fine. You will not have to marry Margeary Tyrell. Though if anyone would ask me for an opinion, first of all, everyone underestimates Stark girl, but - secondly - I would prefer Rose of Highgarden. Wine?  
I shook my head. The aroma of alcohol itself irritated me and made me nauseous, and the prospect of nagging over the chronicles and watching Cersei for the next two weeks did not make me feel any better.  
\- Tell me why Sansa? To make Cersei angry? - Tyrion suddenly became serious.  
\- I do not know. Maybe she will believe that I have a bit of honor left?  
\- It's a poor basis for mutual understanding.  
\- TYRION! I understand father, but do YOU really want me to get married ?!  
\- Well, all right, all right! - He giggled again. - Come!  
\- Where?  
\- What do you mean, where? To the library! Did you hear? I have two weeks to make you the future Lord of Casterly Rock and the heir of the Lannister family! Ah, but you will not forget about the poor, younger dwarf brother, when you reach the top?  
\- Tyrion, have mercy today, I have a hangover, have you forgotten? ...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Lion and Old Falcon are making an agreement.

Tywin's POV  
It was not in my taste to grovel before Arryn, but what is not done for the good of the family?  
\- Jon.  
\- Tywin! - the sight of his full satisfaction smile was griping me, but for years I get used to controll my pride when necessary. - What had to happen that ... how did you write it? "You dare to detach me from my duties..." - he pretended to read my letter. - Your secretary has good manners, I have to admit.  
\- Look, we both care too much about the good of the kingdom to have such talks.  
\- As for you, at the moment you care for the kingdom or your family? – he gestured to indicate the seat and personally reached for the goblets. - Wine? - I nodded, though I would prefer a strong booze.  
\- Let’s make it both, but get to the point. I am asking you for help in an extremely delicate matter, and in return I offer information that was initially confirmed by Spider and Littlefinger.  
\- Oh. And what do you want to ask me to?  
\- My son dumped white.  
\- I’ve already know that. Who is going to be a happy bride?  
\- He insisted on Sansa Stark.  
The sight of fossil from surprise and perhaps outraged Jon Arryn was very satisfying after his malice. When he regained his breath, he took it seriously:  
\- Tywin. You will not tell me…  
\- I agreed.  
\- Are you going to poison Rob Stark or something like that?  
\- An tasteless joke. And I hope it stays between us.  
\- A tasteless idea! Your son and a Stark girl?! Ned will never agree.  
\- I would prefer this little Tyrell, but the reluctance to spend holydays with Lady Ollena prevailed. AND one gadabout in the Lannister family is enough.  
\- Gadabout, you say? And do you know what our friend Varys's little birds are chirping about?  
\- I would have to be a blind fool not to know what you're making the allusion to and I don’t need Varys for anything, when it comes to my family's affairs. Matters like that happen ... between high born ones, but things have gone too far. You have to admit that it is often difficult to calm down the northern lords, and that a rich and military talented ally and son and brother-in-law will be useful to Young Wolf and the good, old Ned. Would you help me convince them?  
\- And you could use the grandchildren with the right to inherit Winterfell. I do not know if I like this idea.  
I shrugged.  
\- Stark has three sons.  
\- And you do not avoid radical solutions.  
\- We know each other long enough to know that I will do what I will have to do, or what I would like to, if the opportunity arose to assure supremacy to my family, but deliberately endure the lives of little boys? ... No. In the end, the blame would have fallen on me right away. You do not appreciate my intelligence, I would think of something better. In this game only Rob and Sansa will count anyway. There will be no warrior of Bran, more a maester or an engineer, and Rickon is too small to put too much hope in him. Not that I underestimate them, but for now I have other worries. Besides, you've probably heard of Bolton? And what if this dog’s brood wants to apply for a hand of a noble girl?  
\- What?!- he even leaned back disgusted.  
\- Do you prefer my son or Ramsay Snow, to be the fourth in line for Lord Winterfell's title?  
\- Now it’s Bolton. - he corrected me in a voice without expression, looking at the desk. After a moment he livened up and spoke calmly, we were both used to keep emotions on reins. – I’ve tried to influence Robert not to legitimize him, but Cersei was in a bad mood and in this case she decided on sculling. But Sansa and ... Ramsey?! Varys told you that?!  
I shook my head.  
\- This particular - Littlefinger. I just asked who is going to send matches to Ned, and he, with mock worry and badly covered jealousy, had mentioned a few – with Boltons and Freys at the helm. Ramsay's ambition and old Frey's ambition do not know the limits and I do not know if the Young Wolf will be able to deal with them when Ned runs out. We would have to take a look at Littlefinger's attempts at young Sansa , she is so similar to Cat...  
\- By the Seven, Tywin, with you a man loses interest in a good wine! What are you talking about?! Ramsey, Frays and even Littlefinger?! He could be her father!  
\- But he is not and this is one of his life's problems. At least I do not prejudge anything, we just have to keep an eye on him. Back to the Frey and Bolton...  
\- Exactly. Why don’t you ally yourself with the Freys and support their candidacy, and than marry Jamie with Margeary?  
\- Don’t tell this Ned and Cat, but he told me that he did not want a wife who would superior him with intelligence.  
Jon Arryn laughed so loudly and heartily that I wondered what rumors about our meeting would be spreading tomorrow in the capital. Admittedly, he was kind enough to be able to send back the service, but the walls not only have ears but also eyes and tongues. Finally, he became serious, but I was glad that he forgot about speculation, what I am going to do in connection with the marriage of Jamie and Sansa Stark. Of course, it would be good for me if Young Wolf encountered some nasty accident, but to face the North with the right to inherit only on the woman’s side? No. On the other hand - I think I'm getting too old and too sentimental, because for now I was interested only in silencing gossips related to Cersei and LEGAL grandchildren. Maybe it will be a boy and he will take everything after me? At least someone has to seriously deal with the Lannister heritage.  
\- Considering it from a different side, they really match ... I was thinking about Sansa for Robin, but I'm not a fan of marriages between cousins. - he looked at me in the eye and, like a mature politician, he bit his tongue instead of saying something malicious, consequences of which he could not completely foresee, and which I could not forget. - Then it's his idea, here we are ... Well, but you could ally with the Freys.

\- You’re insisting on these Freys! Walder Frey and his henchmen should remain only a tool in the hands of the stronger, and besides, you know how they say - silks lie well on the third generation, and if someone would ask me, the Freys have not yet become the first generation. Besides, they intend to offer Roslin's hand for the Young Wolf. If Ned accepts them, I will have a hard nut to crack, I confess, which is why Jamie's concept does not seem so bad to me. And as for the Bolton... the bastard should know his place. Stark may have a soft heart, but he seems to understand it, he keeps his ones short.  
\- You are getting a little irrelevant. Even if…  
I raised my hand.  
\- The moment we talk, my reconer is just counting the kegs full of green fire placed in the deepest and not used corridors at Casterly Rock. He counts them so that I can be sure that he has not kept any of them for himself and he contented himself with my gold. The casks were gathered in various places under the town by the Mad King. Before my son ... Jamie told me for the first time in his life, what were the last words of the madman: "Burn them all!" He yelled a few times.  
As I spoke, Arryn blanched.  
\- I did not know that because my foolish sons have not found it appropriate to share this knowledge with me until yesterday.- I pulled. - As soon as you find the right place, and my son puts a scarlet cloak over Sansa's shoulders, half will be yours or king, if you prefer. I keep half of them as a guarantee of silence and relative favor. Stark will be aware of everything. Littlefinger knows nothing about casks, I think he can only guess why Jamie and Tyrion are going north after my questions about Sansa's matchmaking, but it's probably a matter of time when one of my men is going to get a whore and he'll also find out. Varys knows, because someone had to help me find these hellish barrels. He knew about production, but when he heard that these were just standing somewhere, he had the same face as you. He thought they were hidden somewhere in the dragon’s dungeons, and he was afraid to sniff. I think that he will stay away from it all, because he cannot handle such things, but Littlefinger is completely different matter.  
\- What guarantee do I have that ... you will give away half?  
\- Lannisters always pay their debts. Just make sure my sons are welcomed in Winterfell. They will manage with the rest.  
He was silent for a long time. I guessed what would prevail in Jamie's favor. Even me - completely stranger - I was disgusted by giving such a sweet girl as Sansa to Ramsay. Arryn drank the cup and poured himself another.  
\- But Ramsey? No, Tywin, you are ... what you are, but I will not sell a girl who is almost like a daughter to me. They say that when Targaryen is born, the gods throw the coin, but when Ramsey was born ... - he shook his head.- ... the gods must have fallen asleep, and the demons have been awakened. We'll do this…  
*  
Leaving Arrin late in the evening, I decided that the only good idea in Robert Baratheon’s life was to make this man a Hand of the King, although I would be better in this role. Anyway, I managed to achieve so much that he sent a raven to Eddar Stark, and the message was edited personally and in my presence, but it cost me no more than to give away to a small amount of green fire to Stark - as proof of my words and warranties of good intentions. I tried to bargain, but he was adamant. He explained that it would be good if there was a little of such a weapon in the North because disturbing things were beginning to happen behind the Wall – Stark was forced to cut off the Night's Watch deserter who confessed before his death something that made my hair stand on end, and it is difficult to scare me. Arryn asked in his message that notwithstanding everything Jamie was to be treated in Winterfell not as the Kingslayer deserves, but as the honor demands that a man seeking consent be heard and that everything my sons want to say to was listened with patience. I would not write better myself. Say how much you need, but in order not to reveal anything specific in the event of reading.  
All I had to do was pray that none of the hellish kegs would explode in a popular place, and the Queen of Thorns had not thwarted my plans of Jaime's marriage. And I thought to myself that I could even stand Sansa Stark, if Jamie finally got married. Unlike my own daughter, she was well-mannered and probably will be easily controlled if necessary. If Joanna were alive ... if she has a daughter, we'll give her Joanna’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think of this? :)  
This and one more chapter, and Jaime id going to meet Sansa for the first time in... say, few years?
> 
> How do you think, what should Jaime choose as a gift for Sansa?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ifs, Cans.  
All Hollow's Eve is coming and we are going to spend it in Winterfell ;)  
Enjoy this chapter before ladies are going to speak :)

Tyrion’s POV  
After these two weeks we were leaving Kings Landing. At last, but I decided that the delay was good for Jaime.  
He found that Cersei had become a stranger to him, and that he might finally see her true face. For years it seemed to us that her father underestimated her. As for me, I understood what our sister really is. It happened, more or less, when I came from the supervision of a child tutor under the care of teachers for older boys.  
Our sister was too ambitious, but not so intelligent and not enough hard-working to make up for her intellectual deficiencies, and too proud to listen to advice. I understood, that she would never become a competent ruler such as Lady Olena Tyrell, nor would she have such a sense of duty and honor as Catelyn Stark ... examples could be multiplied, enough to say that Cersei lacked what, I immodestly admit, I achieved - honest judgment of my own person.  
On the other hand, Jamie had refused to think that Cersei was not walking perfection for a long time. It was only after her betrayal that he realized that it was not enough to be an efficient swordsman and a proud knight with an imaginary mission and secret beloved, in a word - that life is not a ballad.  
Our father was not very satisfied with the results of the truest exam the Young Lion had proceeded. It wasn't a surprise for us, because he never spoiled him with praise. In retrospect, it seems to me that according to Tywin Lannister, the best method of raising children is always to be strict, because until this day he lectures us and his daughter-in-law and torments us with advice. Grandchildren are another thing - he started to smile at them for the first time and spoils them with praises day by day, and with presents month by month.  
Questioned by his father, Jaime seemed to remember all the sad moments from his youth, when he preferred to skip lessons on horseback rides. Father always punished him personally because he couldn't imagine that a nobleman could raise a hand for someone other than himself. He arranged a real ceremony - held before supper, at the same time, always in his common room and in the presence of a teacher or other person whom we were just playing tricks on. He preceded the act of spanking Jaime's ass with the formula: "Son, as my heir and member of an ancient family, you have duties that you have not fulfilled and you must be punished, but know that my father's heart always hurts more and longer than my son's skin hurts!" What is interesting, he had never hit me. I stopped mocking around the same time I realized that Cersei wanted to be a queen, and she didn't have enough reason to do the job. Earlier, like a small son of the Lord and a child without a mother, I got under our tutors and servants skin more than once. Even if the fault was obviously mine, I was deprived of desserts or something similar. Maybe in his perverse sense of justice, the Old Lion refused to add a spanking to the reluctance he showed me at every turn, or maybe he thought Jamie must face harsher punishments because he believed in his golden son and not in me? An adult man was no longer supposed to be spanked, but our Lord Father sent us to the North with cautious advice that Jaime should get into political conversation as little as possible, and in any case which would not require sending a crow, he should consult with me. Old Lion cut off the questions of relatives saying that we were going at his command and he has no intention to explain any decision. We were officially supposed to carry something for Lord Stark, and Baeylish was bending over backward to find out what is the real reason. In addition, Littlefirnger was furious. For whom as for whom, but for him and for Varys it was clear that the reasons for visiting Winterfell could be matchmaking.

Jamie asked me to never leave him alone with Cersei during these two weeks. I tried to fulfill my request, but I noticed that there was always a one of father's trusted man, Varys 'little birds' or Littlefinger himself somewhere nearby, and I almost didn't have to watch him. Of course, there was a dramatic last conversation. Cersei first laughed at his scruples, then tried to convince him with threats and pleas, and finally with tears, but apparently she chose the wrong order, because Jamie, though he was leaving with erratic compassion for her, was disgusted by the arsenal of female tricks. Jamie argued that, regardless of the fact that his majesty never forgot Lyanna Stark, as one of the strongest families of the South we have some moral obligations to the North. Something bothered him a lot, but he was probably so determined only when he decided to put on white. Father solemnly promised to make Robert treat our sister better, and I dared to support this request. After all, no woman deserves to be treated badly simply because she is not a dead loved one and her first-born child died in infancy.  
Cersei could gain my sympathy. I even understood that she blamed me for my mother's death, I just associated it with her. Instead of influencing my father to humanly send me away somewhere, she did everything to destroy me. But who am I, with my love of joy and being blessed by a forgiving wife to instruct anyone? Let us leave the philosophical and ethical statements to the wise men, and let us return to the adventurous story based on the history of my family.  
Finally came the day when, with appropriate assistance and gifts for the Starks, we set off with light hearts, like youngsters on an adventure. We were farewelled by overjoyed Robert Baratheon, who was already imagining that he might be throwing Arya Stark with Tommen and by Cersei, doubly furious about losing control over Jamie and her Lord Husband fantasies, and father, and Jon Arryn. For a change, both old men could sit down to play with the best cardsharpers, they were so calm and unmoved. Littlefinger and Spider watched us from the battlements. The only thing that disturbed my mood was the awareness that in addition to valuable maps for Lord Stark, in one of the same solid caskets we were carrying an unofficial and rather gruesome gift for Benjen Stark.  
I was wondering whether to treat as a good or bad omen the fact that we met along the way and took with us an interesting company. First, they were carts of musicians and actors, among them a woman-dwarf with a wonderful wit. She turned out to be a great interlocutor and companion. Then we met a female knight. Her name was Brienne, and she was Lord Tarth's only child. She made friends with Jamie so much that I began to be afraid of his matrimonial intentions, but a few days of observing these two dispelled my doubts. Lady Brienne was going to offer her sword to the Starks and was naively delighted that the South was seeking agreement with the North, but beyond the absurd sense of honor and funny and rigid way of being, she seemed intelligent. Much later it turned out that nothing better could happen to us than Lady Brienne's and those comedians' company. I also met an interesting side of my brother's character. He got up at the crack of dawn and began training, as he used to do for a long time, but also he began to pray again. When I asked what he was asking for, he replied calmly and quietly that he asked the gods to hear him and forgive his stupidity. He confessed to me what troubled him. He asked me if it was normal that he still had loved Cersei, though he wanted to be poles apart from her. I told him that I would be worried if his heart changed so much and that I supposed I understanded how he felt.  
Finally we arrived at the Twins. We limited our stay there and courtesy to a minimum. We didn't want uncomfortable questions, but Old Frey guessed a lot. The farther we were from King's Landing and Crossing, the less gloomy and the more nervous Jaime became. About halfway from Twins to Winterfell, he began to ask me first what I thought about Starks, then about Sansa, which was both understandable and irritating because I didn't know them so well that he should choose me as an adviser.  
\- Tyrion, how should I start a conversation with Lord Stark?  
I felt respect in his voice, it was a significant change in attitude. Jamie hasn't got the best opinion of Eddar, and he was dismissive about him, but why wonder if Ned beat Jaime's Master, Arthur Dayne?  
\- I think you should try a little humbleness, after all, dear brother, you killed the king. This event has no precedent in our history. Tell something of a soul torn to this day, but then get straight to the point. The Northeners ones don't value long discussions. I would not feel remorse after killing this particular monarch being in your place, but I hope you can pretend a little.  
Jamie mumbled a quote from the play our comrades had practiced - one of her heroes said he would felt the king of the world if he hadn't had nightmares or something like that - and louder he said he could do it.  
The next day he started with another tap.  
\- Tyrion, does Lady Catelyn like flattery?  
\- I'd rather not try to flatter her like a courtier, but I don't think any woman despises a nice and sincere compliment. At least try to find an agreement with Robb, this should set her as favorably as possible. This will not spare you, of course, fraternal conversation with Robb about the miserable fate of a husband, through whom Sansa will shed at least one tear, but it will certainly help. The best way to gain a woman's heart is through her children, unless you're going to court her, though this is all about children in a long term. - I said, but he wasn't laughing.  
He used to have such a bad day that Lady Brienne asked me to figure out what was going on. Jamie still sweaty after the evening workout and shivering with anger made me realize that even the best makes mistakes. Father and I did not discus plans to discredit our competitors. Jamie heard the ugly rumor in the tavern. Thanks to Seven, he was smart enough to scold the lower-born interlocutor in refined words and not get into a fight like a peasant in dance, jealous of the plump Katie, but he had to somehow relieve his frustration, and Brienne did not know how to talk to him. He asked beside her:  
\- Tyrion, could Lord Stark take the Bolton's offer seriously?  
Lady Tarth's round eyes grew even larger with terror. The fame of the Dreadfort Lords apparently went far.  
\- Knowing Stark - there is such a risk. He is more honorable than wise, but remember that messing with Boltons ... you understand. It is a real misfortune that Domeric Bolton is dead. Stark is getting older, he will seek agreement. Will he sacrifice Sansa for her? Probably not, because since he is constantly discouraging Robert from the concept of poisoning the Beggar King and Queen, he will not be able to give his daughter's hand to this maniac. If Roose wanted Sansa for himself - patricide is as sure as... - I waved my hand.  
Lady Brienne opened her mouth to hear that. Lord Tarth must have neglected something in her education, since my words shocked her.  
Jamie looked at me in horror, as if he didn't have the incestuous relationship repeatedly and eagerly consumed on his conscience, but even in me the vision of Ramsey's reaction to his father's new wife caused a cold shiver.  
\- Whatever you do, don't tease the Boltons. We'll manage with the Frey, but I'd rather watch your skin on you, not on Ramsey's coat ...  
Then Jaime looked at me for the first time as a father would look in his place. This look, full of lioness, contempt, but also aggressive attention, was to be seen on his face more often, but let's not be ahead of the facts.  
\- There shall perish a hair from her head and I'll catch him, give a hangman good coin, and the last sounds Ramsay will hear in this world will be"Rains of Castamere"... - he drawled.  
I have already lost count and my memory disappoints me, how many of these less significant "Tyrion, how, why, what if ...?" were. I would not be myself, if I did not mention you, dear reader, the last and funniest question. Jamie asked it as the walls of Winterfell loomed through us.  
\- Tyrion, what if she thinks I'm too old?  
When I stopped laughing, Jaime was almost offended, and Lady Brienne managed to hide a giggle, I advised:  
\- Don't try to rip a youngster. It's the stupidest thing an older man can do. Don't worry, as far as I know, she is too well behaved to show something like tahat.  
I'm not interested in her manners, just what she really thinks!  
I sighed.  
\- And if she thinks so? What will you do?  
He was very tense.  
\- I will try to show her the good side of this situation. I can protect her better than anyone her age. And although you're smarter, I'm not doing the worst among courtiers. And ... I don't know! Maybe it's a bad idea? What do you think?  
\- I think you ask me a little late, but you are finally starting to consider it in terms of a relationship with a specific woman, not with the woman whom Cersei hates the most. It's a good sign.  
Poor Lady Brienne seemed to want to sink to the ground in embarrassment at hearing that.  
\- You are right, but from the beginning ... it was also always about the fact that she was ... straightforward. I hope so.  
\- Ser Jaime, can I say something? - Lady Tarth was dead serious. Jamie nodded absently. - You have to try. She is your last chance for honor.  
Jaime didn't comment on that. He hung his head, it was clear that he was fighting with his thoughts. Finally he raised his head and looked at the rising walls of Winterfell like the man who had made the final decision.

There were three days left until the All Hollows Eve.


	5. INTERLUDE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good at doing these beautiful six-part pictures, but I can still provide you with some links to songs and pictures which inspired me to write this story :)

Volta od La Volta was middle ages/renaissance "tango" - scandalous dance inspired by simple folks dances. There is also very popular renaissance song: "Quand je bois du vin clarait".

One day I was just looking for some informations about renaissance dances and... kabooom!  
When I saw these pieces on YT, almost one after the other, with this particular pictures, I thought about Sansa and Jaime, and Margeary and Tyrion - I hope that the dance and music groups, and youtubers won't mind, that I would like to praise their work by publishing these links:  
1.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47Crpjlb63k&list=RDMM47Crpjlb63k&start_radio=1  
2.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eG41pUcEug  
(despite this guy in red is not as handsome as Nikolai Costa-Waldau, the woman's dress is something I imagine Sansa could wear, Stark's grey and all...)

Here's one of my favourites pieces, three dances, tourdillon, gagliarda and volta combined, music based on "Quand je bois du vin clarait" song, where you can see, about what steps and figures are we talking about:  
3.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pelrp8bw38k

... same piece, just music, performed by another group:  
4.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH73ff08CH0 ...

... and last but not least, this beautiful scene from a movie about Elisabeth I:  
5.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rXpNtXNOrI

I've tried to create something, but still - if anybody could help me with looking for some pictures or help me with creating something, I would be very grateful - as I wrote in summary, I'm not skilled in graphics in general :/


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Margeary has a headache and lord Tyrion begins to be hopeful...
> 
> I swear, in a next chapter Jaime is going to meet Sansa - at last! :)

Margeary’s POV

Many years ago, I did not even expect a completely different fate awaiting me than I had dreamed and planned, and most importantly, that it would make me happy. Since childhood, I have used to thinking that marriage is a contract, and, according to the saying, a woman must be a neck that shakes a head of a family to wield power - no matter, a peasant or a noble. Still, deep in my heart I was hoping that my marriage would be as good as the marriage of Catelyn Stark of House Tully, for example.  
At the very beginning Loras and I were going to Winterfell for the Feast of Souls filled with faith in the success of the mission, which was to establish double bonds between Highgarden and Winterfell - Sansa was to marry Willem or Loras, me Robb ... I thought I could have hit worse, but I wouldn’t have liked to move north. Who could have predicted that Mother and Maiden would have completely different plans for all of us, and that holydays would turn everything upside down?  
Anyway, we arrived as soon as possible, considering the distance. There were at least half a dozen competitors to Sansa's hand. Everybody flattered Frey's eldest son, but no one took him seriously -on the opposite, if Roslyn had married Robb, Old Frey would had climbed to the next level in the hierarchy, and Direwolfs would have been guaranteed free passage South at least until Robb's life. Apart from one of my brothers, only two mattered. Everyone hated Bolton, but we were afraid of Lord Dreadfort and his naturalized son. Robb did not speak to them except forced courtesy, he demonstratively showed sympathy for Jon, while bastard brother despised by Sansa was giving Ramsay such murderous glances that I began to wonder what this quiet and clumsy in relations with girls boy hided everyday. It is interesting that Bastard Bolton, as I called him in my thoughts, bypassed me wide - maybe he knew that I could recognize the sadist when I saw one.

I’ve grown to like Sansa from the beginning. Though she seemed silly, she had a good heart and was just and human for servants, like her mother. She did well over time, but before she outstanded Lady Catelyn in many matters, she became a hero of song and even art because of Ramsey and Jaimie. I would not wish such a fate even this hag Cersei, but the reward makes nightmarish dreams cease over time. I also deserved a few scenes in a long, beautifying real events, but tasteful play written in white poem.

That autumn I decided to spoil the perfect young lady a little. I had absolutely no complaints about the upbringing that Lady Stark had given her, but life at Winterfell did not prepare her for life outside and what was to happen to her. First, I started talking to her about people. I warned her against Baeylish, whom she trusted too much, though her mother tried her best to keep him at a distance. I managed to convince her that even people like King Robert - especially King Robert - and Old Lion, as well as Littlefinger have their weaknesses and we, women, can exploit them in our favor. Finally, when she mourned her innocence a little and I shook her vision of the world a little, we started talking about men.  
Breaking Bolton's ranks was extremely easy, I've had literally all Stark brothers on my side since Bran saw and described Rickon how Ramsey beat the servant's bloody, blasting him as a trifle when Sansa quickly passed unwanted suitor with the indifferent: “Good day.”. Lord Stark, of course, could not interfere in matters between the Boltons and their service, but he somehow endured the presence of Lord Dreadfort only because of his famous honor. From the beginning, Sansa felt instinctive dislike for both of them, and thanks to me, she began to learn the difficult art of avoiding Ramsay so as not to irritate this beast.  
As for the happier stories and teachings, she wondered again and again, how do I know this or that and whether my mother or grandmother told me about it? With a benevolent smile, I nodded, though it wasn't entirely true. All this caused that I completely conquered Arya's heart - in her eyes my sister gained - and Robb Stark began to look at me suspiciously ... As long as I was watching Bolton and flirting and retorting with him and Theon, everything was fine, but Sansa was another story! Poor thing, he did not manage to inform his father that I was spoiling his innocent little sister. He didn't make it, because three days before the All Souls Day the third major competitor arrived.

Celebrating the Festival of Souls is a typical tradition of the North. At Highgarden, for whose abundance we thank the Seven, we stop at Harvest Festival, but the Northmen are superstitious. It is hardly surprising, since they deal with dangers that we have never dreamed of on a daily basis - out of real threats it is worth mentioning skirmishes with savages. It seems that the difference in the lands they inhabit has influenced the preservation of a peculiar custom.  
When the Maesters observe that the days are getting shorter, they traditionally mark the day of slaughtering the pig and Farewell Day. When the harvest is over and the barrels and pantries are full of salted or dried meat, the Northerners go to the godswoods and set symbolic feasts for souls who, they believe, come that day to look closely at relatives, give wise advice or on the contrary - mischief. Because some souls are able to hurt and even posses the living, everyone is wearing masks after sunset, dressing up, or at least dirty faces, so that the ghosts do not recognize them, and also try not to leave the house, cover the windows, and inside homes burn as many candles as possible to scare away evil. This day is - for the paradox - considered to be very successful for making engagements, but not weddings, as with all contracts - planning are traditionally finalized during the winter solstice. Not surprisingly, when Sansa grew up to the age of sixteen, Winterfell fell to guests from all over the North for the Festival of Souls.

Three days left to All Souls Day, when I nabed my brother with Baratheon. Renly Baratheon, who also came to try to get Sansa's hand, and in any case for a wife, came up with the idea that my bedroom would be a perfect meeting place with my brother and the best time would be a quater after I left. The sight I found having returned for a shawl cost me a loss of appetite at the thought of the consequences that might have happened to Loras. Thanks the Seven for both of them not having a time to undress completely. Renly tried to ask me out, but with malicious satisfaction I waited for them to embrace and leave themselves. I asked both of them what they thought I should do, and since they did not answer, I measured them with "Granny Ollena's gaze" and said that I had to think about it all well. I turned on my heel and went for a walk.

When in an hour later I heard that the Kingslayer decided to join this crazy company of the ceremony, my head ached for the first time in my life.

Tyrion’s POV

Whatever we do, dear reader, we must first of all try to treat others as we would like to be treated ourselves, deepen knowledge and take care of the family. Considering blood ties, I have to agree with my father: family is everything and for this reason, and not because of a bunch of crap feudal principles, it should take the lead before everything. Without a family, a small child will not survive and will not go out to people equipped with knowledge, even the most modest goods and education. Between all Westeros Great Houses Tullys prevail in that task, but my father, with all his twisted sence of loyalty, was the second best.

These rules helped me to survive the bad times that occurred that fateful autumn when we came to Winterfell.

Winterfell and Wintertown, thanks to priceless skills of lady Catelyn, somehow accommodated all the gentlemen - some with families - and their service. Thanks to our status a mounted messenger assured, that all of our party – except travelling actors – will be provided with quarters in the castle. We’ve send back polite words of gratitude and we’ve informed, that we will officially come at noon.

Before that, I left my Golden Brother with the trouble of choosing new armour, as he left this of White Guard in capital. We were going to stay North for a while, and I wanted to do two things – make a piss from the Wall and see the most famous Godswood alone.

Who could have thought that I’ll find a small family gathering and one spy there! Almost like King's Gardens!

Hidden at the hill, I saw a graying warrior sharpening his family sword, deeply in thought. I understood his need of solitude, because even my head was bursting with thinking about the issue of Sansa's marriage. If only this wicked Ramsey didn't come up with the idea of running for Sansa's hand! Helas, when the message from Jon Arryn came, Lady Stark decided to talk to her husband right away and I saw her too, walking hurriedly down the path. Just behind me the one end only lady Margeary Tyrell was looking from behind the bushes. I suppressed laughter.

\- Catelyn, what does all this mean? – Ned Stark asked dumbfounded reading the enigmatic lines. - "Friend, the sons of Tywin Lannister are coming to you. Take young lord Jaime's not as the Kingslayer deserves, but like a man seeking peace and wanting to redeem himself. Do not send them away, but hear them both favorably for the good of the Seven Kingdoms and for reasons I cannot write about. Jon Arryn" - he read aloud.

I felt a wave of indescribable, various emotions, ending with unexpected relief. Lady Tyrell literally bite her own hand.

\- Eddard, Ser Jaime will ask for Sansa's hand.  
\- Catelyn, what are you talking about ?!  
\- Something very serious must have happened that Arryn stood at Old Lion's side.  
\- Cat, can you hear yourself ?! Kingslayer?! My son-in-law ?! I would be angry if it wasn't so ridiculous!  
\- Ned, calm down. First of all, still many lords call Robert a usurper. Secondly, the Mad King's children are still alive, and ... you know what I can't say loudly. Third, it will be a great match! They basically go together, and the Lannisters need some good blood. And finally, we will get rid of the Bolton house. After all, no one would dare to refuse Old Lion ... may it be only Jaime, not Tyrion, because Tywin is ready to come up with the idea that Tyrion will marry Sansa, and Jamie will marry Margeary. By the way, if Dwarf were not ... well, a Dwarf, Margeary should marry him - everyone says they are the two greatest minds of the young generation.

Dear reader, I would give not only give a penny, but a gold dragon for Tyrell’s Rose that moment!

\- Cat, you're crazy. – lord Stark concluded in a manner of a man who reassembles his vision of the world.  
\- No. If it is true that Ser Jamie has shed white, as the Seven Kingdoms are already roaring about, why else would he come here? Tywin could have sent Tyrion himself.  
\- Cat ... but Sansa among the Lannisters?  
\- Why not? We can handle it. Let's go. This is not a good place to talk, and I have to write to Ollena, since you mentioned it ...

I recognized, that for some reason lady Catelyn was trembling at the thought about the future of her daughters. Besides, on a contrary to appearances, a Kingslayer was great party for Sansa ... Where it will be safer for Sansa than in Casterly Rock with, if the Gods are gracious, grandson of Tywin? I knew she had to convince Edd and Benjen ... and get used to calling Jaime other way than Kingslayer.

In a meantime lady Margeary got up and brushed the dress of grass and leaves and turned around massaging her temples. When she saw me, I could swear, that she had thought that some ghosts were really mocking her. She closed her eyes and shook her head, but when she looked a second time my short, stocky figure did not disappear.  
Despite my will, I smiled.  
\- Lady Margeary, didn't your grandmother, Lady Ollena Tyrell, teach you that it's not nice to eavesdrop on?  
\- Lord Tyrion, you know as well as I do that she taught me that what is unsightly can be very useful and valuable."  
I laughed heartily at this retort and hidden allusion.  
\- At least I won't be alone with this jumble and there will be someone to play cyvasse with. – I offered her a hand as I was experienced courtier and shuddered a little, when she accepted. I always thought she had good eyes and a noble heart, despite, say, playful temper. When pugnacious fought for better with amazement on my face, she blushed.  
\- It is an interesting idea indeed, that you, lord Tyrion Lannister and me are a good match.

Belive me, dear reader, I didn’t see a hint of disgust or concern on her face, but I was sure that the best course of action was not to comment this statement.

\- Will we go, my lady? – I said in a hoarse voice. I cleared my throat and looked at her calmly, as if nothing had happened. – My brother is waiting for me a mile or so from here, we haven’t officially greated our hosts yet.  
\- Of course, my lord. – “If you prefer, may it be so.” - said her eyes.

We headed towards the path to the castle.

\- Lord Tyrion, was Lann the Wise tall? – she asked out of the blue.  
\- Why are you asking, my lady?  
\- Oh, for no reason! Just ballads are silent about it. - I changed the subject immediately. - Well, I feel sorry for poor Loras, but maybe it will be better this way? So how are you going to get Sansa for your brother and whose idea was that?  
\- I will surprise you, my lady, he came up with it himself.  
\- You, the sons of Old Lion, are definitely underestimated. He'll spin Sansa around one of those beautiful, long fingers, right? Just what will happen if Lord and Lady refuse?  
\- Oh, believe me, we've got an ace up our sleeve. - I replied dryly, in a tone that cut off the discussion.  
\- What about Ramsay?  
\- I'm afraid it can't go without a duel.  
\- Ramsay can't be challenged. He's too smart for that. He rather won't poison you, it's not his style, but beware of him. Folks and some lords say he killed Domeric. You could try to prove it, but somehow I don't see the possibility. I would also advise against anyone sending a spy to Dreadfort. We have to think about it, but in the meantime you need to welcome the hosts.  
\- That's very nice, my lady.  
\- What is nice?  
\- This "us." Why do you want to help me?  
\- Consider it a fad of a bored noblewoman. – clearly it was her turn to change the subject. - Leave it! Tell me which dance is popular at the court now?  
\- Ah, my sweet friend, you won’t belive it!  
\- Try me!  
\- Neither more nor less – VOLTA!  
\- You’ve got to be kidding lord Tyrion! Pray tell, how does all these old ladies manage with that?  
\- They pretend they don’t watch and doing a poor work with that! As for my sister, she forbided Myrcella AND Tommen to dance it until their fifteenth nameday!

Everything happened three days before the Feast of Souls, when trouble literally came out of the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pics:  
https://spark.adobe.com/post/UORABiI4mMccS/


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "- Congratulations, my noble bothers, you have just made the Old Lion to suffer attack of apoplexy."
> 
> First meeting, stolen glances...  
Lannisters brothers scheming and plotting, Starks being smart for the first time - hope, not the last - in this universe.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sansa’s POV

\- Brandon Stark! How many times did I tell you not to climb?!

\- But mother, I saw ser Jaime! He leads probably a hundred people troop uniformed in the Lannisters’s colors! At least twenty horsemen, rolling stock full of crates and ...

My heart started to beat like a hammer, out of fear and excitement.

\- Brandon, promise me you won't climb anymore!

\- I promise ...

\- When you lie, you look at your feet just like your father. Run after him and Robb. Sansa?

\- Yes mother?

She looked at me in embarrassment, but much calmer than in recent weeks.

\- Go put on a new coat.

\- But you’ve said ...

\- That was before Ki ... ser Jaime ... young lord Lannister decided to court you.

\- Is it true? - I whispered. I closed my eyes because I felt dizzy.

\- Yes, darling girl. - mother patted my cheek. – If everything goes well, you’ll have the chance to be the second lady of the kingdom and you’ll be safe away from ...

The mother did not have to finish. Away from Ramsay.

When I was hurrying to my rooms, I heard her calling my half-brother.

\- Jon! Today you will stand with the others. Only in the second row. her voice sounded less cold than usual. If I wasn't so completely absorbed with my thoughts, it would probably gave me something to think about, like what it meant to Jon, but at that moment I was just thinking about how the ladies are doing their hair in the South. The thought that the Young Lion could make me advances seemed so abstract to me that I was only thinking that I was sixteen years old and one of my suitors was 15 years older than me. I was stupid, terrified, but for nothing in the world I wouldn’t like to seem like a provincial.

Jaime’s POV

Our father thought of everything, even a squire for me. Unfortunately, Podrick Payne was clumsy enough that I preferred to shave myself. I thought he was just nervous because when I left him he could do everything right and keep things in order. I regretted not having my friend Addam with me, but my father, at the request of sending him, stated, that one rooster in the northern henhouse is enough and he must have Addam with him in case of any unpleasant circumstances.

I personally inspected the troop entrusted to me by my father. Our people looked impeccable. At the time of the review they had their visors raised, and in their eyes I saw no reserve, only pride - their Young Lion returned and assumed the colors that in their understanding he should always wear. I thought it was really good that I was coming back. I loved Tyrion, he would be a good Lord of Casterly Rock, but he probably couldn't get the respect and love of these people. I promised myself that I would convince my father to divide the heirloom between us two according to our abilities - unless I strangle late Tyrion. I was about to send Podrick to look for him when the hoofbeats sounded.

\- Tyrion, where have you been ?! - I called at the sight of my brother galloping from Winterfell. He was strangely confused and very excited.

\- I was sightseeing!

\- What?! We have to move and you sneak out for a walk ?! Is this a irrelevant joke or you admired the sight, but this under a wench’s petticoat? - I mocked.

\- Come with me, I will change quickly and I will tell you everything. - he jumped off the horse, threw the reins to squire and, with the face of a cat who got to the cream, went to his trunk. When he changed his shirt, jacket and coat, he summarized me Starks’ conversation. Despite pressure, he did not reveal the name of the "ally" we had accidentally gained.

Finally we moved. Horses at the front, then me and my brother, then Lady Brienne and Podrick, behind us the armed pedestrians, finally the necessary service with the rolling stock and actors. The procession was closed by a rear guard - four pedestrians and two horse riders. The soldiers were not delighted to follow the comedians, but I didn't want to risk anyone being surprised - the kind of paranoia I had acquired observing Aerys's deepening madness and analyzing all the wrongdoing at court, including my own. As it turned out later, we rightly suspected that the Bolton Bastard was ready to violate the famous Northern Code of Honor to have his way.

The whole Stark family gathered in the yard - the Lord and Lady, three sons and two daughters, a maester, a septa, a castellan, behind them the dodger Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow and servants whose role I could not guess but who apparently were worthy of this place. With a smile, I noticed that the lord of Winterfell pulled the helmet off his youngest daughter's head and handed it unceremoniously to the castellan.

Eddard Stark looked like he wanted to reach for a sword, but he controlled himself quite well, unlike his eldest son, who looked at his father, at me with brotherly frustration painted on his face. He knew that sooner or later his sister must marry someone, but in his eyes we were probably worth as much as the castle rats. For a change, Catelyn Stark looked as if someone had lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders and was smiling cautiously but politely. A point for us. The younger boys and that dark-haired girl with a helmet looked at me as if they were some mythical creature or a walking legend. Finally, I turned my eyes to my ... bride?

Sansa Stark was young but undeniably beautiful. Slender as a willow branch, with a porcelain complexion and a thick mane of copper hair and huge blue eyes in which fear no less than mine was painted. What did I get myself into? Well, it's too late to retreat. I have what I was looking for - an honorable wife from the North.

\- Something slips right through somebody’s fingers … - Tyrion broke away from the protocol, nudged me and pointed discreetly at glowering Bolton. I looked at Lord Stark from afar.

\- You mean me or Ramsay? - I said calmly, and Tyrion snorted.

I turned my eyes back to Bolton. That day I chose quite long gloves. I took off one, lifted it up and shook it, and then deliberately hung it over the hilt of the sword so that the whole courtyard could see. If the Bastard understood this correctly, I wasn't afraid of him at all, but both of us were bound by the laws of hospitality.

\- A rare manifestation of modesty, brother.

\- Don't confuse good humor with modesty. - I whispered before we approached the Starks. I raised my voice. - Lord Stark. - I bowed respectfully. - It's an honor be a host you in your home.

I could not deny myself this satisfaction, he should answer: "The honor is mine.", but he got out of the situation after a moment of silence by answering.

\- Welcome to Winterfell, Lord Jaime. - I looked at him with a very slight smile and nodded again.

\- Lady Stark. - I bowed courtily, reaching out my hand. I was prepared to quickly change my gesture, but the daughter of Tullys decided to give me a hand. I did not kiss her in western manner so as not to embarrass her - in the North the hand kiss was considered to be reserved only for close relatives - I only bowed to her hand.

\- Welcome to Winterfell. She repeated after her husband.

\- Lord Tyrion. - My brother made a very formal and courtial bow to both, and I took the opportunity to take a closer look at Sansa. She had to come up with the same idea because our eyes met, the girl's cheeks burned with crimson and of course she looked down. Gods, what am I going to do with her?

\- Let me say how grateful we are, my lord and lady Stark, for you having decided to welcome my brother into your doorstep.

Eddar Stark raised his eyebrows.

\- We haven't accepted him yet.

\- Please forgive me? - Tyrion choked out.

\- Catelyn, take the girls and boys to your room. Robb, Jon. – he asked his older sons - Show their lordships the way to the main hall.

Bolton's mischievous smile and Sansa's second look walked me away. I got a poor comparison to the big eyes of a hounded deer and I knew that even if I didn't fall in love, I got into a mess. Who would have thought that someday in my life I would really defend a fair maiden from a villian? This is what even the lazy ministrels would not think of.

*

I had to admit that Lord Stark really had balls made of valyrian steel.

Tyrion and me, we sat in the middle of the Great Hall under fire of glances. I had to leave the weapon outside, but the chairs were comfortable, next to us a table with a pitcher of ale was placed. There were no women to be seen anywhere. Podrick handed me a cup.

\- I would prefer a Dornish for my last meal ... - Tyrion grimaced, though he took a sip of a politeness. - Do you see the headsman block somewhere? - he looked around.

\- I thought about it too, but either they'll bring it or they'll cut our heads standing up. Think about it, Lord himself will decapitate you! - I hissed.

\- Somehow I do not feel honored ... On the right of his lordship place sits Lord Umber called Greatjon, do not mistake him for Smalljon, these are the effects of giving ancestral names ...Next - Glover - no title but lord at Deepwood Motte and Rickard Karstark from Karhold, they are Stark relatives. - Tyrion began to enumerate quietly.

\- Who would have thought? Karstarks are Stark relatives? - I mocked.

\- Jaime, quiet! Then sits Bolton of Dreadfort, Umber of the Last Hearth, Hornwood and Cerwyn. The Starks would have hung Boltons long ago if they weren't descendants of the Red Kings. Roose is known for his self-control and political talent, unlike his bastard. - I looked into the eyes of my competitor and nodded my head from afar. Curiously, he bowed back.

\- I remember Boltons. Tyrion, let's bribe him. - I whispered.

\- How?

\- You're a politician here. Dreafort is a hell hole compared to Winterfell, but if we bribe him, he could even afford mosaics in the latrine.

\- That's not a bad idea. Let’s marry him and bribe him, there will be peace until you conceive the heir.

\- Well, but with whom?

\- You are probably hoping to conceive with Sansa? - I rolled my eyes. - I thought of one of Frey's daughters for Bolton, probably the oldest would be the best.

\- Father would be delighted with the idea, less delighted with the expense, but you said all of them are ugly, except for Roslyn?

\- And is the Bolton coat of arms so pretty? We will say that we pay extra for Walda and Roslin's dowry, and we will marry the latter ...

\- To Robb?

\- Nooo, let's not interfere in the Stark plans, although it would be good to confuse them a little. Let's marry her with Edmund Tully. Frey will not be happy, Stark will have to look for a bride for Robb, but the best compromises are that when nobody is happy and nobody will be strengthened, except us and maybe Stark.

\- Tyrion, what would I do without you? And the savage on the left is who?

\- Be careful what you say, Maege Mormont from Bear Island.

\- Ah. I would marry her with Brienne, just don't say a word to any of them.

Tyrion almost spat on wine.

\- They didn't deserve such words!

\- Maybe, but a joke was too good... Now that you've decided to bore me with the fellowship of the Northern Lords, continue.

\- Further on the left we have Howland Reed from the Watchtower on Gray Water, a descendant of the Wetland Kings and Lord Manderly from the White Harbour - keep in mind ...

\- Interesting selection of places, they did it on purpose, or someone seated them together, like water lilies? Manderlys from Reach? Exiled long ago?

\- Yes, both incapacitated and rich, and very loyal to the Starks.

\- It means they are civilized. Do we have a fair, unmarried cousin?

\- We'll think about it... Tallhart, lord of Torrhen's Square, sworn to Starks and Ryswell, father of the late Lady Bolton and grandfather of the unfortunate Domeric.

\- How does his relationship with Bolton look like?

\- It's hard for me to say, they certainly don't love each other, but decide who you want to stick with.

\- I'd rather use him against Ramsay.

\- Hard, but I'll think over it. Then Dustin from Barrowton, Locke from the Old Castle, but the latter is Bolton's vassal.

\- Sadistic look in his eyes. Not like Bastard’s, but apparently like master like man, the house shows the owner. And those there, closer to the door?

\- They are the Rodrick brothers, Winterfell armory master and Jory Cassel, Stark's captain of the guard.

Despite my will, I looked for the hilt and slowly looked away. Their father was killed by Ser Arthur Dayne at the Tower of Joy.

\- Forrester of the Iron Fort, sworn to Glover, Glenmore of Rillwater Crossing. Next to the Cassel, stands Mollen, the Stark ensign without his own land, and the one who is coming out ... is probably Poole, the administrator of Winterfell.

\- I've already forgotten half, how do you know them?

\- When you sneaked out from lessons, I memorized coats of arms.

Our chat was interrupted by the door opening. All stood for the entrance of Lord Stark. Benjen and Robb Stark followed, Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow, staring at the floor, on their heels. Well, since naturalized Ramsay hits Sansa, Jon’s presence would be in order. Ned and Benjen took their seats, the young men sat down behind them.

\- Lord Jaime Lannister, before I greet you at my house - if I do this, not send you back - I would like to ask you what brings you here. – Lord Eddard said calmly.

I stood up, folding my arms behind my back.

\- Good intentions, Lord Stark. - the uproar that followed my words was worth the speech. Only two people were not yelling like a street vendor; Bolton leaned back in his chair and looked at me carefully, and Maege Mormont shouted:

\- My lords, the Warden of the North and lord of Winterfell talks with the newcomer, be silent, if you please!

When the Great Hall fell silent, disturbed by the angry panting of this and that nobleman, I continued:

\- I have sworn myself that I will contribute to the flourishing of cooperation between North and South.

\- You swore, you say. What about the holy oath you broke?

I sniffed, looked at the gathered and looked into the eyes of Eddar Stark, then Benjen and again Eddar.

I could challenge all these lords, one after another, to a duel to defend my point. I could repent, as Tyrion advised, but suddenly I remembered what my father had often said: "Lion is not concerned with the opinions of sheep." Either Direwolf will ally with the Lion or they will jump at each other's throats…

\- So many vows… They make you swear and swear. Defend the King. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protect the innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the Gods. Obey the laws. What if your father despises the king? What if the king massacres the innocent? No matter what, you forsake one vow or another.

\- He's right, Lord Stark. He may not be the best of knights, but what happened to your family ... The North remembers! - roared one of the bannerman, his words accompanied by a few loud "aye!"

\- LORD JAIME! - there was silence again. - The death of my father and brother has nothing to do with your case. You stood and watched at everything, and now ...

\- You're right, Lord Stark. I did _nothing_. I will not play the card of your suffering and revenge, but if you want me to apologize, I will not do it. What of a king he was?! - I strained the words, it wasn't easy to upset me. - What king rapes his wife like the worst mercenary does with a wench reached out at war? And still, I stood at the door and listened to the queen’s screams along with others. - there was a stir among the lords. - Do not be indignant, my lords! To condemn and avenge the harm of a virtuous woman is one thing, but is this something different to publicly admit that her husband and king is also capable of such a deed? The ways in a man can harm a women are countless and fall on the conscience of us all. - I didn't have the courage to look at Tyrion, but I promised myself that I would have to also repair his harm, and this time I continued. - You say North remembers. Do you think I forgot the smell and the scream of Lord Stark burning alive, the curses of Brandon and the laughter of a madman? What king punishes father and son when they come to defend their case and decency calls to respect their pain? Five hundred people, including the foremost knights, stood and watched, no one even wagged a finger, and I chickened out with them.- I looked at Stark. - Your friend avenged his bethroted, and I prayed that he would win over the battle of Trident, because I was hoping ... it doesn't matter now what _I_ was hoping for. It can be said that when the king demanded I bring him my father's head, we all were already at war. Even then, I was looking for a way out that would allow _me_ to remain faithful to the holy oaths. I could hang myself, like Brandon or threw myself on my sword, and leave Tyrion in the situation you were once in. Would that be right? Maybe, but it didn't make me slaughtered the Crazy King like a pig. You want to know what was the last straw of Aerys's wickedness? Do you all want to know what lay at the root of your own contempt? Just ask me about it. - I dropped into a chair, resting my elbows on my knees.

\- Will it change anything if I ask now? - said good old Ned.

I raised my head.

\- It will change. Yes. We will establish a lasting alliance of our homes, and if this does not happen, at least we will begin to cooperate, not like boys complaining nannies and fighting, clad in mud, but like grown men. I came to Winterfell to start over. However, I have to warn - I want to change a lot, but I will definitely not change the fact that I know my value and I am an incredibly vain and annoying grunt, even for a Lannister. I do prefer to leave politics to my brother. Now, Lord Stark - I spread my arms. - Show me the battlefield and I will fight if you want me on your side.

Tyrion grunted and stood up. He apparently decided it was time to intervene before I breach the protocol and good taste again.

\- Lord Stark, please listen to me.

Stark sighed heavily and lowered his head. Benjen looked at Robb, his face is wearing all shade of red with anger, the sulking Jon, finally put his hand on his brother's shoulder, pulled something out of his sleeve and put it on the table. Stark waved him to silence and told Tyrion.

\- Speak, lord Tyrion.

My brother bowed politely and began in the tone of a courtier discussing the weather.

\- Regardless of the reasons that bring us here, do you believe that if Iron Throne was seated by a reasonable, average monarch, such a king would lead his knight to the last resort?

\- It’s easy to love a good monarch. The oath is valid until the death, not until the knight is comfortable.

\- I agree, but is it right to treat the knight so that he loses his spirit? - Stark sighed.

\- No.

\- If so, Lord Stark, hear what else I have to say.- Tyrion began to walk like a lawyer, he was speaking in a loud, even voice. - I suppose Lord Hand Jon Arryn and Varys will not refuse to support our case. Viserys Targeryen is alive, his sister also. We know that they live at the mercy of their friends, but we do not know if this will always be the case. I know you have at least once led His Majesty away from ... sending people for the children of Mad King. I anticipate the question - do the Lannisters want to kill them? As long as the head of the family is our father, no. If you ask me if this will change, if they follow their father's path, I will answer - I do not know, but I do not exclude such a possibility. Wouldn't it be better to take one stand if Viserys threatened Robert's reign? Another point. Beside you is Benjen Stark, the first Black Watch scout. I'm guessing that serious matters bring him here - wouldn't it be good if the Lannisters support the Starks in maintaining the Black Brothers? Of course, the whole kingdom consists of maintaining the Wall, but there are certainly many needs that remain unmet. Let's take another matter, Theon Greyjoy lives by your side. From what I was told, he loves your sons like brothers, but can the same be said about his father? What if the young lord leaves Winterfell? Will his father respect this beautiful friendship? My brother has a lot on his conscience, but tell me honestly, isn't it better to have him on your side? And my father with him? Many years ago, my brother told me what the last words were and I still respected his silence to this day, but this is the end. Tyrion stopped and spoke hard. - "Burn them! Burn them in their beds, burn them in their homes! " What do you think, Lord Stark, what do you think, noble lords, what should a righteous knight do when the king throws a pin of the King's Hand to a pyromancer, and more rogue alchemists are just waiting for further orders? - he waited a while, the next uproar to fell silent. - Yes, you heard it right. A PYROMANCER was to blow up Kings Landing because HIS MAJESTY was sure that he would be reborn as a dragon! - when the turmoil subsided a bit, Tyrion ended. – Call for a bread and salt, Lord Stark, or tell us to go away and I promise, you'll never see us in the North again.

Lord Eddard Stark showed the eldest son a bundle that Benjen laid on the table.

Robb stood up reluctantly, stood up for a moment, and when he came to us, it turned out that he was holding a white cloth and a knife. Before I could get scared, he cut his right hand slightly.

\- I welcome you, like a brother to brother, in the name of peace and prosperity. For the Realm of Man!

The plan was indeed simple and did not deserve to be called an intrigue, but at that moment Stark's intelligence surprised me.

Before Tyrion tried to stop me, I carefully took a knife from Robb and repeated his gesture, cutting my own hand.

\- Like a brother to brother, in the name of peace and prosperity, For the Realm of Man! - and I asked more quietly. - Whose idea was that?

\- Mother’s.

\- Ah. Call Jon Snow. Now. I'm not afraid of Greyjoy.

Robb hesitated a moment, but I cornered them.

-In that case…

\- Fair enough! – sighed Tyrion reaching for a blade and repeating the oath.

If I broke this oath, everyone in Westeros would have the right to kill me without trial, unless I took refuge in the temple or monastery for the rest of my life, but it was obligatory both ways. I did not want to risk a situation in which Robb's half-brother would be released from such an oath.

\- Jon. - astonished young man looked at his father.

\- Father, but I ...

\- Do it, Jon. - Benjen said. – It seems you weren't meant to be a Black Brother.

Angry as a wasp, Jon rebelled, cut his hand, and repeated the words of the oath.

We all shoke hands.

\- If I marry Sansa, you'll go south with us. You will defend her with the price of your life, when I’m not able. - I said softly, with Robb's awerness.

\- Let it be that way. - Snow said resignedly.

The maester approached, took a knife from Jon, and lifted him into the air. We stood shoulder to shoulder and he began to peddle his papers as it was a custom:

\- Let everyone know that Robb Stark, Jaime and Tyrion Lannisters and Jon Snow of Winterfell became brothers of blood. Cursed be the one who would break the pact or the one who would sow discord between them or urge betrayal.

\- Brothers to life! Brothers to death! Brothers for eternity! - the lords cried out.

When it was all over, Tyrion said sourly:

\- Congratulations, my noble brothers, you have just made the Old Lion to suffer attack of apoplexy.

\- If do you look at it this way ... - Robb grinned but didn't finish.

\- I don't want to think what Lady Stark will say for that - Jon grunted.

\- After marriage, she won't have much to say. You will come with me and Sansa to Casterly Rock and you will defend her for the price of life if I wasn't around. I'll find a place for you. You'll thank me that you didn't go to the Wall.

Since when I have begun to be overprotective of some Northern lad?

\- Ser Jaime, you speak, as if the engagement has already taken place. - Snow grunted again.

\- Are you ever communicate in a different tone than grunting? First of all, for a one moon, it’s lord Jaime, but in my immeasurable kindness caused by a warm welcome, I forgive you this tactlessness. – I smiled crookedly when Rob and Theon, jumped out of nowere, couldn't stand it and snorted. - Second, wait until you see the wedding gifts, and I do not mean silks for your sister. The Tyrells can't beat this, as for the rest ...

\- Speaking of the wolf ... although maybe I should say about the direwolf? Or maybe she-wolves? - said Greyjoy, chin pointing at the open door in which Lady Stark appeared with bread and salt. The daughters followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! My Muse streached her wings and let me for an update! ;)
> 
> Three days of ploting, translating, checking, correcting.
> 
> As you probably saw, I "quote" TV serie, so this is a good moment to confirm, that we are doing all of it for pure entertainment and fun, not for profit.  
I combined few scenes: Ned and Jaime's conversation from S1, Cat and Jaime's from S2 (or 1?), when he was locked in a cage and she let him go him, and I added a hint of S8 "trial".
> 
> How do you find Jaime and Sansa being both curious but affraid, each one for their own reasons?
> 
> As for Jon and Jaime dynamics - please, do not hate me for completely off-canon idea and let me know, if you please, is my idea is understandable and acceptable?
> 
> Pics:  
https://goodqueenkaro.tumblr.com/post/616019105734164480/play-a-volta-chapter-7-what-do-you-think


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